In Death Do We
by A Quarter Past
Summary: 4.13 Episode Tag. Let loose, swig and be merry. Nikola visits Helen underground. COMPLETE


Note: Episode tag for 4.13. Subtle Helen/Nikola - short and sweet, because any longer and I might have never stopped. Title is a shameless butchering of that particularly drab vow they like to throw into marriage ceremonies. A side note, I'm making the long awaited change of name from Discord in the Garden to **A Quarter Past**. The account will remain the same, aside from the pen name.

Disclaimer: Get in line behind the people who want me to pay my medical bills.

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**In Death Do We**

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**In Death Do We**

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"Tell me, Helen, how does it feel to finally die?"

If there were ever a reason to smile after the week she had just had, the carefully enunciated words from a man who loved to hear himself speak should not have been at the top of the list. But the tone of his voice, so absolutely certain that she would be here, at her new desk, when he walked through that door told Helen that her oldest friend hadn't been sure at all, and it made it all that more important for her to hear him say those words.

Glancing up, she saw him hovering in her office doorway, the frame so similar to the last that it surprised her that she did not get vertigo by simply looking at it.

"Nikola," she greeted, a tired smile lighting her eyes. He looked so comfortingly similar to the man that she had bid goodbye to mere days before, just moments before the destruction of her home, that she was not surprised to see the bottle of wine he carried in his hands.

And then she was, surprised that is, and it showed clearly on her face as her eyebrows rose sharply, "I don't have a wine cellar..."

"Oh right," Nikola grinned, before walking the distance to her desk. His steps were deliberate, dramatic and so very him. So was that smirk, as he set the bottle before her, "If I remember correctly, the last one exploded before I had the chance to empty it."

Helen did not mean to chuckle at that, but she did, and was so very glad that he had come, if only to have the humor in her life once more.

He was speaking again, his hands gesticulating lazily as he surveyed her office, committing it to memory, "We'll have to remedy that, of course, if you want me to stay. But not tonight – tonight is a special occasion, one which I have been saving this bottle for."

Curious, she drew it toward her, and marveled at the vintage, her eyes snapping up to see him staring so genuinely down at her that it might have taken her breath away if this last week had not already winded her, "To christen New Sanctuary?"

"Well, I was going to say we should celebrate the kids being away for the night," the jest was still there, but it was buried by the affirming nod in his eyes.

Some things were not lost through sacrifice but were amplified; he wanted to acknowledge her success, and it pleased her to know that his pride in her work still brought her a measure of joy.

"How are they, by the way?"

"The children? Oh, alive. I wasn't quite sure if simply telling Heinrich that his suit didn't work would be enough to fool him, so I sent the pup on a fool's errand to string out his grief for another week. Once he's made a few old contacts absolutely certain that you've died, I'll pick him up on the surface and bring him down. It should give me time to mark my territory – I saw his lab, by the way, and consider me wounded that I didn't get one of my own."

Helen rolled her eyes, but smiled, it would take more than denying him a permanent work space to keep him away, "Will? Kate?"

Nikola scoffed, as if confused as to why she cared at all, but it was all in good fun, or at least she hoped it was. His less-than-spectacular rapport with her protege was something she had grown used to over the years, but it did not mean she could understand it.

"They are with the Hollow Earth abnormals for the time being," he took a seat on the edge of her desk, his hand reaching out to stroke the neck of the wine bottle, his forefinger just barely brushing hers.

The contact was warm despite his cool skin, and Helen did not retreat from his touch.

"Big Guy?" Her voice was hopeful, although Nikola's expression gave nothing away.

"He was thrown clear of the blast, but it was still touch and go when I left," his eyes flickered downward, very briefly, but tellingly. He did care, however much he did not want to admit it, "I'll keep my ear to the surface for any news."

Even with her best efforts to hide it, Helen's face fell, and she could not bring herself to meet his eyes. Despite, or perhaps because of this, his fingertips came to rest lightly on her hand, timid but stable, "Don't cheapen his sacrifice by taking all the blame yourself. He helped save the world, Helen. Focus your thoughts on that."

"Sage advice, coming from a man hellbent on ruling it," she quipped, wishing to hide her continued guilt, not sure if she had.

Nikola smiled wanly, refraining for once from responding with a barb, and pulled the bottle from her grasp, "Should we find glasses or shall we let loose, swig and be merry?"

When she stood, he joined her, his eyes softening when she straighten his collar and let her fingers rest on the buttons of his starched shirt – it had not gone unnoticed that he had not warn a tie – this intimacy making Helen's mind up for her, "The children _are _away, and I seemed to have forgotten to pack glasses in my haste."

His slow, lopsided grin was contagious, and when Nikola's knuckles stroked the curve of her chin, Helen found that she could not help but find absolutely no reason to chide him for it.

"Death suits you."

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Finite.


End file.
